So You Wanna Be A Rockstar?
by Starlight Pixiedust
Summary: Back in the summer of '89, Ross and Chandler tour for their band, and a restless Monica tags along. C/M. Rating for language and sexually themed scenes. Now complete.
1. Going on The Road

This is an alternate universe fic. It poses the question What if Ross and Chandler's band was actually good? It takes place the summer after Rachel and Monica graduate from high school, and Ross and Chandler are in college. Their circumstances are a bit different though, mainly around Monica. She's restless and more than a little bit rebellious. I never could figure out why Monica was never more rebellious. This fic definitely plays out my musings. I'm sorry if anybody doesn't like the way I depict her, but tough! I'm the writer. Besides, maybe you'll like it. Also, Ross and Chandler have both left school temporarily to tour. Enjoy.  
  


_So You Wanna Be A Rockstar?  
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_1  
_  


Monica packed up her most prized possessions into a duffel bag and smoked. The muggy summer breeze that leaked into her basement bedroom from the open window caressed her bare legs and fluttered the ragged edge of her torn-off t-shirt. She stubbed out her cigarette into a coffee cup on her bedside table and surveyed her packing.  
  
In less than two days, Monica planned on getting out of this god-forsaken house and hitting the road. She couldn't handle her parents' scrutiny for another second. Where she was headed, she had no idea. She just planned to hop in her beat-up sedan and drive and drive and drive. Reaching under her bed she pulled out her knee-high Doc Marten boots and placed them at the end of the bed, with the other essential clothes she would most likely wear: the boots, her studded belt, black micro-mini skirt, her favourite stretchy black top. The torn off shorts and t-shirt would be left under the bed and would end up in the rag pile two months later.  
  
Perched on the bed, she surveyed the barren room. A few dusty posters of her favourite punk bands, some pictures taken when she went to Disneyland over spring break earlier that year with Rachel. That was the last time she could remember being happy.  
  
Shaking her head she lit another cigarette and blew smoke at the ceiling. God, what the hell was happiness anyway? She couldn't remember anymore. Her smoke swirled toward the ceiling, stirred by the breeze, when the sound of a vaguely familiar car engine quickly approached.  
  
Heading upstairs to greet the visitors, Monica passed the impeccable rooms and spotless floors that she had always despised. In an act of defiance, she tapped the ash off her cigarette onto the sparkling wooden floor.  
  
Brushing raven hair out of her eyes, Monica appeared in the front doorway, watching the van her brother had bought the summer before. His tour bus, he called it. Yeah, right. It was more like a pile of crap on wheels held together by rust and duct tape. A moment later, Ross hopped out of the van and raced over to her.  
  
he called. I just have to pick up some stuff I forgot in the basement. With that he disappeared into the house. Monica walked towards the van. Chandler sat in the passenger seat, the door open. He looked sweltering in his jeans, cowboy boots and t-shirt.  
  
Hey Chandler. she said casually, taking another drag from her cigarette.  
  
Chandler glanced towards her and did a double-take. Was this really Ross' little sister? The one who made him mac and cheese? That Monica was cute in a...pudgy kind of way. This Monica is hot. Ugh, hi. he said and cringed. He sounded like a stupid fourteen-year old kid.  
Long time, no see. Her eyes met his and sparks flew. Literally.  
Monica swore and dropped her smoldering cigarette, breaking the strange connection between them. It had burned down to the filter and had burned her fingertips. She sucked on her finger for a second, before Chandler reached out and took her hand.  
he said, Let me see. An urge to touch her had suddenly overtaken him. He examined it for a moment, then kissed the burn. All better, he declared, half-joking.  
  
Hey kids! Break it up! Ross called, laughing from the front door, now carrying a stuffed backpack and a grocery bag. Monica and Chandler both jumped back like school children, caught with their hands in the cookie jar.  
  
Mon, I noticed you were all packed up. Where ya headed? Ross continued.  
Monica said, examining a toenail.  
Want to come with us? Chandler blurted out without thinking. She shrugged. Why the hell not. Just let me change. And with that, she turned on her heel and returned to the house.  
  


_2  
_  


Hours passed and with each passing moment, Monica put another few feet between her and her former home. She lay sprawled on the back seat, dressed in the clothes she'd laid out while packing, her duffel bag on the floor in front of her. Chandler sat in the passenger front seat and strummed his guitar mindlessly.  
  
Yo, Ross. she called. Pull over soon. I gotta pee and I'm outta smokes. she called as she tossed her last out the open window.  
But we're almost there! Ross protested. He had been saying that for hours. Monica smiled sardonically and watched the landscape.   
  
For once he was right. Less than 15 minutes later, he pulled into the parking lot of a motel. Monica immediately hopped from the car, slung her canvas bag over her shoulder and hurried to the front entrance, in search of a toilet and cigarettes. Ross shouted to her to come back and help, receiving only a scathing glare. Chandler watched the bag pat her wonderful ass.  
  
Ross and Chandler's had lined up them at a couple bars through Long Island, New York State and Southern Ontario (they didn't really have a manager though. It was a guy from their dorm with good connections). Monica was basically just along for ride and watch their finances.   
  


_3  
_  


Chandler flipped over in bed again, unable to sleep. From the floor Ross swore viciously at him to take a vacation to a very hot place where skating doesn't happen very often. There was no way he going to get to sleep tonight, not with the wicked thoughts that danced in his head. He sighed and stared at the ceiling. There was no denying their attraction. But god damn, did have to be so powerful?  
  


_4  
_  


Monica lay across the bed, doodling in the battered notebook Chandler used to jot down songs. He sat on the pillows, strumming his guitar and singing softly. Monica sipped on a bottle of rum and let his voice wash over her. She had grown to love his voice in the week they had been traveling; it was almost reassuring. The song finished and he set his guitar aside to lay next to her. He smiled crookedly at her.  
That was great, she managed. Her breathe caught in her throat as her gaze locked on the crystal blue eyes that probed hers.  
he whispered huskily. All of time stopped as he bent his head a bit closer...and stopped as cool liquid spilled over his hand. Monica let out a surprised shriek and grabbed the dropped bottle.  
Sorry, sorry, she apologized dabbing the bedspread with tissues.  
It's okay, he reassured. Suddenly it hit him how ridiculous the situation was: they were both half-drunk, lying on a bed in a cheap motel room, while her brother showered in the next room. Shaking his head, he helped clean up.  
  
Monica sat on the hood of the car, wrapped in Chandler's leather bomber jacket, protecting her from the chill. Suddenly a very male, very sexy voice murmured next to her ear, Gimme my jacket back.  
  
She gasped, surprised, responding only by punching him lightly.  
Aw, come on he said. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders, trying to pull it off that way. Laughing, they pulled tug of war for a moment, until they overbalanced and tumbled to the pavement.  
  
Monica moaned as she hit her head on ground, but the pain was quickly forgotten as she realized that Chandler was lying on her and one hand had landed on her breast.  
  
You okay? he breathed, gazing into her eyes. Suddenly, his lips crashed to hers, kissing her passionately.  
  


_5_  


When Chandler awoke, Monica was gone. He dragged himself out of bed and tugged on his boxers. He found Monica in the bathtub, chain smoking, reading a paperback romance and making excellent process at cleaning out the mini-bar.  
  
Ya know, he commented, for the person trying to keep us on budget, you certainly spend a lot on booze. She shrugged. The breasts he remembered quite well swelled out from under the water. His breath caught as he remembered them.  
  
Chandler helped himself to one of her smokes and puffed thoughtfully on it. So...ummm...what just happened? Chandler asked, unsure about what the answer would be.  
Monica shrugged again. We fucked.  
Chandler rolled his eyes. Really, I thought we were playing youkur. No, but where do we go from here? Do we forget about it, keep...ummm...yeah...  
Dunno. Guess we keep doing it. Already Chandler felt himself warming to the possibility.  



	2. I Will Deny You

Presenting Chapter 2. You'll start to notice I use a number of lyrics from various songs. I'll let ya guess what songs. Anyway, I'm not as happy with this chapter as I am with the first, but I wrote this in one night and I spent six months writing and rewriting the first. Anyway, I hope you enjoy.  
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_

6  
  


Chandler propped on foot on the amplifier and kicked the guitar riff up another notch. Ross struck a crazy beat on drums behind him. Monica watched this from the bar, sipping a glass of straight vodka. The bar was half-filled, the patrons nodding their heads to the beat. She had to admit they were _good_. Ross had played keyboards in high school and she knew he had begun to learn drums but she didn't realize how good he was.  
  
The song ended and Chandler waved to the crown and thanked them for being a great audience and asked them to buy the demo so they could eat. Ross and Chandler hopped off stage and hurried over to Monica.  
  
That was great, Monica said.  
Chandler said distractedly, gimme a sip of that. He grabbed the glass of vodka and gulped, grimacing at the bite.  
  
A fan had pulled Ross over to the side. Chandler murmured, dragging her away, toward the exit.  
  
Outside, he pinned her to the wall brusquely and kissed her roughly. My god, I wanna fuck you, he growled against her neck. Monica could already feel the familiar ache.  
  
They made love roughly. _No, not made love_, Monica reminded herself, _we fuck_, she reminded herself as she lay in bed, smoking, long after Chandler had fallen asleep. She fumbled for the tiny bottle on the nightstand and gulped it down. _ I don't want to make love. Love hurts. Mom and Dad always said they love me, but do they ever show it? Guys never say it when they have their way with me. Rachel nevers calls now that she's in New York and she's got a boyfriend. Fuck love. It hurts to damn much.  
  
_

7  


  
Fuck you, Monica grumbled at Ross as her head hung over the toilet. She coughed again, then flushed. Ross was on his high horse, playing the holy roller. You sound like Mom and Dad, she continued, I just got out of their house, I didn't come along for this.  
  
All the vodka she had drunk the night before was making a return appearance. Ross, being a perfect angel, lectured on the evils of drinking and smoking. Last night had been a killer. Chandler had written a new song about his parents' divorce and, drowning in nostalgia, she'd drunk herself into oblivion. She'd passed out in the wee hours of the morning on the bed, nude except a pair of Chandler's boxers. When she'd woken, her head feeling like it might split in two and the taste of smoke and bile in her mouth, she'd draped herself in a towel, which she now wiped her mouth on. Go away, Ross.  
  
Ross sighed, shook his head then stalked off. Chandler came in a moment later.  
You okay? he asked worriedly, brushing away a lock of hair dampened by sweat.  
she grumbled then gagged and spat.  
You really shouldn't drink so much, he began but Monica cut him off.  
Look, you're not my boyfriend. Don't tell me what to do! I gotta enough people who do that. You don't even have to be nice to me if you don't want to. She spat again.  
Chandler wasn't sure whether to be surprised or hurt. He opened his mouth then closed it again.  
None of the other guys I've slept with have cared for me. I don't care if you do.  
Chandler stood up. Want some water...or,or something? he asked uncomfortably.  
She shook her head as she bent over the toilet again. Getting back into the living room, he realized how little he knew her. Well, he knew her, just not the way it counts. He knew where to touch to make her go nuts. He knew the exact spot on her neck where her pulse flitted by and was so sensitive. He knew the feel of her lips. He didn't know her favourite food, her favourite band, whether or not she planned on college. But...she didn't want a relationship, she'd made that much clear. Hell, she didn't want him to like her. Well, he did. A hell of a lot.  
  


_8_  
  


Monica lay on the back seat, smoking and fighting to keep her remaining drops of nourishment in her system there. They had left late because of her hangover and she wasn't getting any better. It was just past noon. They were headed for some god-forsaken shithole of a town but if it kept gas in the tank and a couple bucks in their pockets, so Ross was happy.  
Chandler was strumming his guitar and sang the same few lines over and over again. Nobody loves me, nobody cares, and when I die there won't be nobody there. Nobody loves me, nobody cares, and when I die there won't nobody there...  
  
Chandler's voice faded as it played over and over in her head. She recognized it as a song by a punk band she'd seen once in concert. _And when I die there won't be nobody there, I wanna die, I wanna die... _That's me to a T. _Fuck the world I will deny you._  
  
Ross pulled to the side of road for a map check, convinced he was lost. Fighting a losing battle, Monica shoved the back door open and stumbled to the ditch, retching and gagging. _I will deny you I WANNA DIE I WANNA DIE  
  
_

9  
  


Chander sat in his usual spot, the front passenger seat. He was scrawling snatches of lyrics into his notebook for such things. _There is no love left in your eye, there is love between your thighs_. That seemed to sum up his and Monica relationship, if you wanted to call it a relationship. They had been sleeping together for over a month. They had been on the road for six weeks. So far they had been making okay money, enough to cover expenses.  
  
He glanced over his shoulder at her. She stared out the window, the look of contempt contrasting sharply with the trembling cigarette tucked between her fingers. She looked so fragile. She was so complex, something that drew him into her. She tried to give the impression that she was completely independent, she doesn't need anyone or anything. Except alcohol it seems.  
  
She drank like a fish, something that scared him. She seems to get drunk every other night. It was just the physical side that made him worry. It was how she seemed to use the vodka and the rum and the coolers and the wines and the scotch and the whiskey just to run away from it all. Yet he couldn't seem to help her. Every time he tried to get closer, she pulled away.  
  
Close to twelve hours later, Chandler walked to the motel from the bar they had been playing at. It had been crowded there and they's sold almost twice as many copies of their demo as they usually do. He wished Monica had been there though. She'd started drinking early and had going at it heavier than usual. Only a couple minutes after their set started she'd stumbled out the exit. Maybe she'll somber enough for a hard-  
  
He froze. His thoughts stopped, the air in his lungs and the blood in veins turned ice cold. Monica lay half in the ditch, half on the walkway, uncouscious, blood trailing from one nostril.


	3. Don't Call Me Baby

I really appreciate reviews, so please keep them coming. Let me know about how you think the plot's going, characterization, etc. I'm hoping to continue updating as I have been. Anyway, enjoy._  
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10  
  


Her head felt like someone had taken a rusty icepick to it. She slitted her eyes open. Chandler sat slumped in a chair. Ross stood next to her bed, speaking to a man in a lab coat. As things came into focus, she began to realize she wasn't in her motel room but a hospital.  
  
she croaked. Ross and who she presumed to be a doctor turned to her. Chandler bolted upright.  
  
Oh thank god you're awake! Ross said happily and squeezed her hand. She tried speaking again but found she couldn't.  
Chandler explained what had happened. You were walking home drunk last night and passed out. You hit your head pretty bad and gave yourself one heck of a bruised nose. You're just lucky you weren't hurt worse.  
The doctor smiled. Monica, I'm Doctor Sheldman. You're a very lucky girl. You had alcohol poisoning. If Chandler had come by any later, you might not be here. We had to pump your stomach, but other than icing your bruises, you'll be fine in less than a week. He turned to Ross. Ross, since you're her brother, may I speak to you? Ross nodded and followed him from the room.  
  
Chandler pulled his chair closer to the bed. How ya feeling, kid? he asked, offering a slight smile.  
Like I got hit by a bus. She shrugged. I can handle it.  
Just like you're handling your drinking? She shrugged again and stared out the window. It was a terrible view, just another wing of the hospital, but she really didn't care. It was better than looking at the patronizing look on Chandler's face.  
When do I get out of here? she asked, dodging the question.  
I think he said tomorrow morning.  
Where are my cigarettes? she asked, finally looking at him. The hard expression on her face had returned. Chandler snatched her purse off the back of the chair and produced the pack and her lighter. Before he even realized what she was doing, she had thrown back the sheet and was attempting to stand. Quick as a flash, he was around the bed and catching her as her weak legs refused to let her stand.  
he whispered, holding her to his chest.  
No shit, Sherlock, she grumbled against his shoulder. He didn't even hear her sarcastic comment. He only noticed the feel of her pumping heart against his, how fragile her thin body felt against his. He began to realize that despite that they'd been sleeping together for five weeks, he had held her only in passion, never in tenderness like this. But, damn, it felt good.  
he murmured again, pressing a quick kiss to her temple, easing her to the armchair next to the window. He cranked the window open and set an empty Styrofoam cup originally used for coffee on the windowsill as an ashtray. He walked away as she lit up. Just as he reached the door, he heard a tentative voice.  
  
He turned to see Monica looking very small and alone, nearly lost in the oversized gown they'd dressed her in.  
  
Thank you, she said hesitantly.  
He smiled. No problem.  
  


_11_  
  


_No problem_, he said. No one had ever been so kind to her. Back home, if someone had seen her laying in a ditch, they'd probably laugh and throw rocks at her already bruised and bloody body. The only person who had been kind to her had been Rachel, as she'd protected her from the bullies who teased, but even then, she was certain Rachel had participated in the game known as Let's-Kick-Monica-While-She's-Down. No one knew about all the times she'd pulled the Swiss army knife from beneath her pillow and stared at it's deadly gleam, contemplating the possibilities. Or how she sometimes used it. Unconsciously, her hand ran along one of the self-inflicted scar on her leg. A tear rolled down her cheek. She shoved it away, disgusted with herself. _Crybaby, crybaby, go on and cry, ya baby!_ the voice in her head chanted. She was strong. Only the weak cried. She had to be strong. She stubbed the cigarette in the Styrofoam cup and shuffled over to her bed. She didn't need Chandler. She didn't need him to keep her safe, to protect her. But why did it feel so good?  
  


_12_  
  


  
Yes, Chandler?  
Are you going to quit drinking? It had been a week since she'd been discharged from the hospital. Her and Chandler lay in bed, and she was just beginning to drowse when he's spoken.  
I don't know.  
Please do. He turned on his side and watched her intently. She had to admit that she's thought about it. The accident had scared the hell out of her and she hadn't been able to touch a drink since then.  
I don't know, she said again and glared at him.  
He noticed the look. Monica, I only say this because I care for you-  
Please don't care for me. Turning away, she sat up on the side of the bed. The tattoo of the dragon on her back stood out in the near darkness, red eyes almost glowing.  
I'm falling in love with you, Monica. And don't ask me not to.  
We shouldn't do this anymore. Standing, Monica took her clothes and walked to the bathroom, shutting the door firmly behind her and locking it.


	4. My Way Out

Don't worry, this isn't the last chapter. I've barely started. Enjoy._  
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13  
  


Ross sat in his usual spot, the drivers' seat. Glancing over, he saw Chandler, obviously in a foul mood. He stared sulkily out the window and smoked. He didn't smoke much because it impeded his singing voice, but he had bought a pack before leaving the motel that morning. He really must be depressed. Monica stared out the window, equally sulkily, in the back. He knew they had a thing going on for a while but when he awoke that morning he found Monica, asleep on the couch in his room. Very strange.  
  


_14  
_

  
Monica stared at her shaking hands and willed herself not to vomit. It had been nearly two weeks since her last drink. It had been easy at first, but after what Chandler told her...She craved a drink more than she craved her next breath of air. This was an unexpected side effect of drying herself out: nausea. Again, she had been fine til her cravings starting hitting full force.  
  
She was so scared though. She was not doing this for herself...she was doing this for Chandler. Because he asked her to. Because he loves her. Drooping her head, she wept.  
  


_15_  
  


Chandler stared out the front window. Until last night, he hadn't even noticed...but Monica wasn't drinking. He couldn't believe it. But why? Maybe it was the accident but that didn't seem to fit. She had had some pretty nasty hangovers and a couple times she'd just drunk away her hangover.  
  
He'd told he loved her. Was that it?  
  
He got his chance to ask that night. Monica had just been returning from the Coke machine, holding one of many cans she'd go through every day lately. He cornered her in the hall. Just as she'd rounded the corner, he'd grabbed her and pushed her to the corner. Bending his head, he kissed her firmly for one long moment then moved away half a step. For a moment, he just looked at her. Her eyes were bloodshot and dark smudges clung beneath her eyes. Then he spoke.  
Have you quit drinking?  
she answered faintly. Her head was still swimming from the kiss. It reminded her of the incredible chemistry they had shared.  
  
Why? Because you're in love with me, because I don't want to hurt you, because I- Because of the accident. Looking defeated, he moved away another step and nodded. Excuse me, she muttered and shoved her way by. Her eyes blurred with tears. What had been those thoughts? She didn't want to hurt him? She...she loved him?  
  


_16  
_

  
Chandler walked back into the motel room and the first he heard was sobbing. The feminine voice he recognized as Monica's.  
he called and raced to the bathroom. Let me in!  
she shrieked, I can't let you see...  
Shoving his shoulder against the door, the lock popped and the scene that played out in front would remain with him for the rest of his days. Monica sat nude in the bathtub, a small pocket knife clutched in one hand. It dripped with blood. Blood seeped from cuts on her thighs. She cried hysterically.  
Oh god Monica, let me clean you up. She just wrapped her arms around his shoulders and clung to him. Turning on the water, he cleaned her wounds. None were serious and she quickly patched up with gauze.  
  
Picking her up, Chandler carried Monica to the bedroom, laying her on the bed. She seemed too tired to protest. He dressed her in an oversized shirt then wrapped the sheets around her.  
Monica, please talk to me.  
I love you, Chandler, she said simply. A tear rolled down her cheek. For the past year, I've nothing done nothing but run. I started drinking heavily and dabbled in drugs. I put up the walls. I slept around. I did it all because none of it involved emotion. Anyone who's ever said they care for me has done nothing but hurt me. But I'm tired of running. Of running away from you, from the truth, She paused and stared him stared straight in the eye. The pain he saw in those of liquid blue made his heart crack. Please don't hurt me, Chandler. Don't ever hurt me. A sob tore through her. She curled to her side and Chandler held her as she cried.


	5. Sometimes Some Things Get Turned Into Du...

Thanks for the reviews. Not a single bad one so far *whew* I hope you're all enjoying this. I'm loving writing this. This story is very personal. Rebellious Monica is very similar to myself the past couple years. Chandler is very similar to the role my boyfriend has played in my life. He pulled me out of a depression that had lasted nearly four years with his love and support. I love you, Teddy Bear. Anyway, I have a contest: anyone that can list three songs from which I've taken lyrics from (in the prose or in the titles of the chapters) will get an advance on the coming chapters. Good luck! When you have it figured out, drop me a line at purple_tights75@hotmail.com. On with the next chapter! Enjoy!_  
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17  
  


Smiling, Monica packed her bag. It had nearly a month since her last drink, the night of the accident. It was strange how dramatic the difference in herself was. She was happy. She couldn't remember the last time she was this happy, or even happy, period. She no longer told people to fuck off every time he or she asked how she was. She was smiling and it was starting to feel natural. That morning Chandler had woken next to her and murmured how beautiful she was, and she had grinned and giggled. Who did she have to credit for the reversal of her funk? Chandler. God, she loved him more everyday. The man was perfect, that was all there was to it. Funny, smart, gorgeous, great in bed, sweet, wonderful...  
  
She zipped her bag and hurried outside. Just as she was stowing it in the back of the van, she felt an arm weave around her waist and pull her around the corner. Giggling, she fell happily into Chandler's awaiting arms.  
Hello there, beautiful. He grinned devilishly as she bent forward to kiss him as he pulled his face away. You gotta earn it first.  
Impishly she licked her lips then bent and pressed soft kisses along his jaw and neck. He gasped as she ran the tip of her tongue along the shell of his ear. Growling, he captured her lips in a lusty kiss.  
Monica and Chandler quickly broke apart at the sound of Ross clearing his throat noisily. The tour bus will be leaving in two minutes.  
  


_18  
_  


God, Monica, I want you so bad. Chandler frantically kissed her neck and rubbed her breasts.  
I can tell, she said dryly, his obvious need throbbing against her leg. Tell me, she whispered, reaching beneath the sheets to peel off her panties.  
I love you, Monica. Now and forever. His expression had softened genuine emotion, then stiffened as he moved inside of her, moaning softly.  
  
They lay in the afterglow. Finally, Monica sat up and lit a cigarette. Her smoke wafted toward the ceiling in the faint light.  
Hey Mon? he said, tracing one fingertip over a breast. She gasped softly at the touch then answered.  
  
Think you can amuse yourself for the day tomorrow? Ross and I are driving down to Port Hope for the day then playing that evening. We'd just a get a motel for all of us there, but there was no vacancies. You don't mind, do you?  
'Course not.   
  
Somehow she'd found a bar. She hadn't even been looking for one when suddenly she found herself, perched on a stool, a smoldering cigarette perched between two fingers and the bartender asking her what it would to be.  
  
Two Sex on the Beach! That's what ya drink, eh Mon? I never I thought I'd see you here. Oh and I'm paying, no question.  
Stunned, she turned toward the voice. Ugh, hi Jay...


	6. You Are Not Here

I'm only posting a bit today, I know I want the story to continue but I'm not sure how to write the next few scenes. I'll continue ASAP. Enjoy._  
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19  


  
She was an idiot, pure and simple. _ STUPID STUPID STUPID STUPID STUPID FUCKING BITCH_ Beautiful handsome popular sweet-talking Jay had shown up at the bar. He'd insisted on buying her a drink, and when she'd tried to tell him she was drying herself out, he'd insisted. _One drink can't hurt_ she'd thought to herself. Sex on the beach...her favourite drink when she'd slept with him, and her favourite sexual act apparently.  
  
Earlier that year, her, Rachel and several of Rachel's friends had gone down to Florida for spring break; Jay had been one of Rachel's friends. One evening, the group of them had visited a bar. By midnight, her and Jay had been the only two left. Drunkenly they'd stumbled out to the beach and fucked wildly in the waves. He had been one of the first to discover her new body. Unfortunately, last night had been just about a repeat performance. They'd stumbled out at 3 am when the bar closed down to Victoria Park and had fucked in the waves of Lake Ontario. She hated Cobourg now. When they'd first arrived two days earlier, she'd thought it quaint and a beautiful town to raise your children in. Now it did nothing but remind her what a stu_piD FUCKING BITCH SLUT WHORE SHE WAS-_  
Mornin' baby, Jay murmured against her neck, kissing the nape of her neck. Last night was incredible. You've learned some new moves. He began to fondle her breasts. Absently, she stuck in the tape found in her purse into the player in the nightstand, thinking it was a mix tape she's made of her favourite songs. Her heart sank. It wasn't; it was Chandler and Ross' demo.  
  
Jay pulled away and smiled. Who are these guys?  
My brother's band.  
They're pretty good. Jay paused for a moment, then turned to her with a crooked smile. Think they'd want a record deal?


	7. Wake Me When It's Over

I'm sorry I haven't updated sooner, I've had a nasty case of writer's block. Anyway, don't kill me over the ending please! This is getting to be the end, only a couple more posts. I've had a blast writing it, I hope as much you have enjoyed reading it. (BTW, Out in the Distance is the name of my boyfriend's band, just a tip of the hat to him.) Enjoy!_  
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20  
  


A-a...record contract? Ross asked, flabbergasted. Never in a million years did he think they'd be this lucky.  
  
Chandler was just about bouning off the walls. He was giddy with joy. The moment she'd told him that her friend's brother had wanted to give them a record deal, he'd grabbed her and kissing her soundly, proclaimed I love you so much! and squeezed her ass.  
  
Monica felt horrible. She hated having to lie to them. But Chandler would never know. She'd devised a cover story with Jay, saying that his sister Jessica was a friend from fat camp and that they's run into each other. They'd ended up talking all night. Jay was a smooth liar, they could pull it off.  
  
Days passed. With Jay's help, they started playing more prominent gigs; Jay had even gotten them a gig playing in Ottawa at a popular club with the punk and rock groups, Barrymore's. They were opening for an up and coming band, Out in the Distance.  
  


_21  
  
_

Chandler cuddled closer to Mon and grinned. He had never been so happy in his life, and it was all because of Monica. This Ottawa gig was going to be great, their first gig at a major venue, only 10 days away. He couldn't wait!  
  
Monica resisted the urge to cry as she felt Chandler snuggle closer. She felt so awful. She didn't deserve this. She didn't deserve to make Chandler so happy. What she deserves to do was burn in Hell. What if she snook off in the night? Took a bus...where? Home? She'd never go back! Stupidly enough this was the only place she wanted to be.  
  
A silent tear slid down one cheek.  
  


_22_  


  
Monica couldn't take it anymore. One night while Ross and Chandler were playing a gig, Monica cracked open the minibar. _Pick your poison_, she thought. Vodka and cocaine was her weapon of choice that night.   
  
Chandler strolled into the room he shared with Monica. The moment he stepped in, he noticed one of two things: the door to the minibar was wide open, its contents laying on the bed and the bathroom door was closed.  
He raced to the bathroom door, throwing his shoulder against. The door popped open, almost effortlessly.  
  
A sense of deja vu hit as he surveyed the scene. A half-rolled joint lay on the counter, surrounded by white flakes, another half-dozen liquor bottles stood sentinel. Monica lay on the floor, vomit and blood forming a gory halo. With a choked sob, Chandler lifted her lifeless body and stumbled for the door.


	8. Everything You Want

Second to last chapter. I wrote a play which is a bit of a spin off, tentatively called _Learning to Fly_. The character is very similar to my version of Monica and she meets a nice guy trying to help her. Anyway, enough with shameless self promoting. I hope you've all enjoyed it. This chapter is going to be long, I'm warning you. The next will be an epilogue. Enjoy! (Review please!)  
  


_23_  
  


Mr. Bing?  
  
Chandler opened his eyes. A young doctor stood in front of him, shifting from one foot from another, shifting a clipboard from one hand to the other. He seemed to calm as Chandler sat up. He cleared his throat and straightened.  
  
Ms. Geller is going to be fine. We would like to just keep her under observation.  
  
Chandler thought he would cry. He had been at the hospital for almost two days. He'd rushed in after walking from the motel, three miles away. Monica had still been unconscious by the time he's arrived. She'd been laid on a stretcher and whisked away, leaving him in the emergency room. After spending six hours in the cafeteria drinking burnt coffee, he'd hunted down a nurse and spent another three hours trying to figure what had happened to her. A doctor had finally found him. Alcohol poisoning and cocaine overdose. Unsure of her condition. Still unconscious. Chandler napped in the waiting room and drank the burnt coffee waiting for news.  
  
Can I see her? Chandler asked, eyes pleading, I'm her fiancee. _A white lie never hurt anyone_, he reminded himself.  
  
The doctor looked uncertain, before nodding. Room 314, he said, waving in the general direction.  
  
Chandler raced to the room, dodging orderlies and gurneys. Slowing, he peered into the room. Monica lay in bed, looking like an angel, her hair spread out around her face. The sunshine made her skin almost translucent and glowing. She looked very pale. He went to her, sitting on the chair under the window. He took one of her hands and kissed it. Her eyes drifted open.  
  
Hey sweetie, he said, smiling. She smiled back weakly. How ya feeling? he continued, brushing hair back from her forehead.  
  
All right, I guess. She seemed distracted, not looking at him.  
  
You gave me a good scare.  
  
I'm sorry. Where's Ross?  
  
On his way. Is there something bothering you?  
  
She looked at him. she said, nodding slowly. I don't deserve you-  
  
Oh sweetie-  
  
No, please, don't start. She paused, looked out the window again. Without thinking, he produced a cigarette and handed it to her. I don't deserve you. She paused as she lit it. I haven't been totally honest with you. Jay... well... I haven't been faithful.  
  
Chandler felt like he'd been slapped.   
  
I fucked him, Chandler, she looked at him for the first time. I fucked him, that's why you got the record deal.  
  
No- no- Chandler got up and raced from the room, nearly tripping on his chair.  
  


_24_  
  


Chandler stared sullenly out the windshield. She fucked him over. How could she do this to him? After everything he'd done for her... Dammit, why did he have to love her! It was so stupid, it made it so much harder to hate her, when he was head over heels for her.  
  
Monica sat, watching Highway 417 whip by. Her eyes were grainy from crying. She finished what seemed like her umpteenth cigarette of the day and tossed it from the window. Rain spurt across windshield. It was a dreary day. Fine by her. She was in a shitty mood anyway,  
  
They were nearing Ottawa. To their left left stood a massive sign flashing the time and temperature. A shopping mall stood, gray and dingy behind it. Unfamiliar shops like Eaton's and Zellers were advertised on the wall. She shook her head. It was strange being in Canada. She could actually drink and smoke legally and it was abnormally warm for 20 degrees.  
  
They were playing at Barrymore's tonight. Ross was the only one psyched. After she had basically terminated her relationship with Chandler back in the hospital, he didn't seem to care about anything.  
  


_25_  


  
The final notes from Chandler's guitar faded to shouts of approval from the crowd. This was his element and he felt himself relax for the first time. The evening had been going great so far. But he still felt empty inside.  
  
For my next song- he began, scanning then stopping suddenly.  
  
Monica sat at the bar, gulping at a rum and coke. The alcohol burned her throat and felt good. Now that it was over with Chandler, fuck it, she needed to fill that void that had appeared in her stomach.  
  
Ross and Chandler had been great so far, but she had barely been listening. She shoved her glass across the bar again and asked for a refill.  
  
For my next song-  
  
She looked at the stage. Then Chandler's eyes met hers. Electricity like they'd never even been close to touching suddenly scorched them both and she gasped. Despite the fifty feet that separated them, she could see every detail of his face, every freckle and crinkle. _I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I WANT YOU I WANT TO ALWAYS BE WITH YOU I WANT-  
  
_He caught himself and restarted. For my next song, I want to dedicate it to someone here tonight. I think you'll know who you are.  
  
He gestured to Ross and Chandler began to play a song heavier than most of the ones they'd played.  
  
_Kiss me hard  
And forget the past the future  
You just want me now  
Tell me a tale of the future  
  
_He quickened the his strums and the crowd moshed.  
  
_There is no love left in your eyes  
There is love between your thighs._  
  
Suddenly he stopped and began to play a slower tune.  
  
_Somewhere there's speaking  
It's already coming in  
Oh and it's rising at the back of your mind  
You never could get it  
Unless you were fed it  
Now you're here and you don't know why   
  
But under skinned knees and the skid marks  
Past the places where you used to learn  
You howl and listen  
Listen and wait for the  
Echoes of angels who won't return  
  
He's everything you want  
He's everything you need  
He's everything inside of you  
That you wish you could be  
  
_ _It's me, _Monica thought. She shoved her way to the front of crowd. She stared up at him, tears burning her eyes. His eyes locked on hers and held her.  
_  
He says all the right things  
At exactly the right time  
But he means nothing to you  
And you don't know why  
  
_She scrambled over the security line. Chandler, still furiously playing his guitar, shouted something to a security guard, who boosted her to the stage. Lights strobed before her, her tears crystals in her eyes. Guitar and drums pounded around her.  
  
I love you, Monica, he said, voice barely audible. She grabbed him and kissed him soundly. He dropped his pick and gathered her closer. She didn't need to say it. He already knew.  
  
Shouts of approval, whistles and catcalls filled the room but they didn't hear a single one._  
_


	9. And Time Rolls On

This is it, folks. I want to thank everyone who's read this. The feedback kept me going. Anyway, I want to list all the songs used: _Everything You Want_ by Vertical Horizon, _Rexall_ by Dave Navarro, _Boiler_ by Limp Bizkit, _I Will Deny_ by Dwarves, _My Way Out_ by David Usher, the chapter title _Don't Call Me Baby_ was a line from a dance song from a long time ago that I don't remember. Anyway, here's the epilogue. I read a fanfic a while back with Ross and Chandler's band, except Chandler's fucking every girl in sight. I'm not saying whoever it was copied me but isn't that the highest compliment? Anyway, please enjoy. I don't have many ideas except for Star Wars fics right now. Smell ya later.  
  


_Epilogue_  
  


Mom! Lynne stole my make up again!  
  
Monica and Chandler exchanged a look, as if to say, _you wanna take this one?_ Monice turned around to see their oldest daughter, Maggie, and the second youngest, Lynne, standing in the doorway. Lynne was smeared with lipstick and bright blue eyeliner.  
  
Lynne, we told you, you can use Maggie's make up, but ask first. Can you remember that for the next time? Lynne pouted and stared at the toes of the scuffed dress up shoes she'd inherited from Maggie.  
  
It had been fourteen years since that fateful night at Barrymore's music hall. Maggie was twelve, Julie, ten, Lynne, six, and Ashley was only three. They had married exactly nine months before Maggie had been born. They always told her she was their best wedding present.  
  
Monica sighed, the warm summer breeze ruffling the frayed edge of her shorts. At 32, she still looked 19 (at least in his eyes), save for the smile lines that had begun to crease her cheeks.  
  
After they played at Barrymore's, they'd recorded their album and a few hits. They recorded four more, more hits followed, and in 1995, Ross left to finish college. Chandler started his own record company and had signed a number of successful acts. They lived comfortably in the suburbs, had a mini van and a big stupid dog they loved dearly anyway. She was happier than she ever thought was possible.  
  
Monica reached over and squeezed Chandler's hand. He smiled at her and gave her a peck. They both turned at watched the sunset, and as he settled an arm around her, drawing her close, she never felt so complete.


End file.
